


A Negative Passion

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Azkaban, Dark, Draco Malfoy - character, F/M, Fantasy, Hermione Granger - character, Kink, Obsession, Post-War, Prison, Rape, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-03-19
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sentenced to Azkaban for his crimes, Draco Malfoy obsesses over the woman he blames for his circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fixation, Chains

**Title**: A Negative Passion (1/50)  
**Prompt**: #41 Fixation  
**Word Count**: 578

There was very little to do in prison, other than stare at the walls and think about his crimes. Draco spent a lot of time thinking. When he couldn't handle the screams of the other prisoners any longer, when he couldn't take the leering grins and the hyena laughter of the guards, he went away to think. He closed his eyes and buried himself in his mind, locked himself away in his thoughts. His body was in prison, trapped in a cell that took three seconds to cross from wall to wall, but his mind could escape.

Inevitably, his mind escaped one direction. At the beginning, he'd thought about his family, cursed the Ministry that had left them with nothing, no money, no status, no name, no rank, nothing but the fading Marks in their arms and the fading blood of their lineage. He'd thought about the choices he'd made and the choices that had been forced on him, and he'd thought about who to blame for all of it. Over time, he narrowed his focus, concentrated on one person who could have made his life so much different, who could have kept him out of the prison cell, could have saved him and his family with just a few words at his trial.

A woman, just his age, who'd only needed to say one little thing to help him. He'd protected her in the woods at the World Cup, protected her in his home when the Snatchers came, protected her in the castle when the Fiendfyre had torn through that room. Protected her and her little sidekicks for _years_, for no reason that he could explain to anyone except himself, because no one would believe him. He'd never thought that she really deserved any of the treatment she'd received, even while he'd thought she didn't deserve to be in his world. If she'd just stayed where she belonged, if they'd all stayed far away from wizarding society, her and her kind, none of this would have happened, none of these problems would have occurred, and then when she had the chance to make up for it, she did nothing.

More and more, he let his mind drift to her. Hermione Granger. The filthy, nasty Mudblood. The source of so many of his problems for so many years. Not a word spoken in his defense at his trial, despite everything he'd done to help _her_. Not the slightest bit of compassion every time her little goons attacked him, from the smallest hex to that Dark curse that nearly killed him. Not even a tiny bit of modesty when she - ill-mannered, uneducated, and ill-bred - took the ranks and marks that should have gone to the _true_ wizards and witches who deserved them so much more. She took the place of the ones who belonged, and showed nothing but a smug swottish face, with her hand and her nose in the air, with even that overgrown thicket on top of her head taking up space that belonged to people far better than her. Who the hell did she think she was? She had no right, none at all.

Draco let his mind float in the nights, when cold rimed the stones of his cell and the lice and roaches rustled his pallet. Let his thoughts dance and circle when sleep refused to come. What he wouldn't give to show that bitch where she _really_ belonged. He'd show her.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (2/50)  
**Prompt**: #30 Chains  
**Word Count**: 448

Draco closed his eyes and concentrated, blocking out the sound of the wind howling past the prison, blocking out the screams and gibbers of the inmates. He closed his eyes and disappeared deep into the tunnels of his mind. There she was, waiting, on her knees with shackles holding her arms up and extended. They kept her back bowed, kept her arched with her hair brushing the stone floor, her breasts prominent. She shivered when the heels of his boots pounded the floor as he neared her, and she lifted her head to stare at him with those dark, mud-colored eyes.

"Mudblood," he said to greet her. He laughed when her mouth worked as she fought for enough saliva to spit at him. With all that effort, she managed nothing but a few drops that oozed down her chin. Draco moved closer and caressed her cheek, wiping the spit away from her mouth with the pad of his thumb. She snapped her teeth at him and he slapped her, the force of his blow rocking her in her chains. She cried out as the shackles dug into her wrists and scraped at the already raw flesh. When she looked back to him, her eyes were full of water, held wide open in a futile attempt to stop the tears from falling.

"You should cry," he informed her, leaning on one chain to unbalance her and stretch her arms to their limit. "You should be crying. If you'd just never come here where you weren't wanted, if you'd just stayed where you belonged, none of this would have happened." He crouched in front of her and wrapped both hands in her hair. "You'd be living in your world, and we'd be living in ours, and we'd never have to put up with your whinging, begging demands to make life easier for you. To shift around centuries of history and tradition and pure, unsullied magic, just so you could get your grubby little hands on what has never belonged to you. But you had to come here, and all this happened when none of it had to happen at all. Really, Granger? This is your own fucking fault."

He jerked her head back, exposing her throat to watch her pulse flutter madly under her skin. Tears leaked down the sides of her face to trail across his hands and soak into her hair. "_Good_ girl," he crooned, leaning in close to her ear. "Good little Mudblood. Learn your place." He stood and gestured to the shackles. They retreated into the wall, yanking her to her feet as she shrieked with pain. "Do save your breath, though. We're just getting started."


	2. Unbound, Dirty

**Title**: A Negative Passion (3/50)  
**Prompt**: #70 Unbound  
**Word Count**: 381

Draco ducked under the chains and walked behind Hermione. He smoothed his hands down her back, laughing as she trembled and attempted to sway out of the reach of his fingers. He gripped her hair and held her in place. In his fists, her hair felt greasy, matted and knotted. "This will never do," he murmured to her, the point of his chin digging into her shoulder as he spoke against her ear. "You are nothing but a filthy Mudblood, but that hardly means you need to be _filthy_, does it?"

He drew his wand and dragged it down the length of her hair. As he muttered a charm, over and over again, the tangles in her hair loosened. The knots disappeared and her curls began to spring free. At intervals, Draco raked his fingers through her hair. He paid no attention to her little cries of pain each time he reached another knot and yanked her head back before charming the knot loose. When he could pull his hands through her hair without obstruction, he switched charms and scoured the oil from her hair.

"There," he said, once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of the brown mass. "There, now. Isn't that better? Don't you appreciate having clean hair?" He paused, waiting for her to answer, and when he heard nothing but quiet sobs, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back until her face pointed at the ceiling. "Answer me," he snarled. "Isn't it nice to have clean hair?"

"Yes." She gulped around the word, then shrieked when Draco hauled on her curls again.

"Didn't hear you. Try that again." He wondered how many pulls it would take for her to figure out what he wanted. She was clever, though, and spoke again, quickly.

"Yes. Yes ... Master?"

Draco purred and released her hair, then wrapped his arms around her, his wand prodding at the underside of her breast. "_Good_ little Mudblood."

Hermione sniffled, her body quivering in his embrace. Draco burrowed into her hair, nuzzled into her curls until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "You've always been a clever bitch. As long as you behave yourself properly, as long as you remember your place, then we will get along just fine."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (4/50)  
**Prompt**: #42 Dirty  
**Word Count**: 473

He circled around in front of her and lifted her chin on the edge of his hand. Tears tracked through the dirt on her cheeks, marking pale lines through the dark, ashy smudges from her captivity. Draco clucked his tongue and shook his head at her. "Bet you'd do almost anything for a bath right now, wouldn't you?"

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and shook her head, her eyes shut tight. Draco made a chiding noise and shoved his hand up under her jaw, forcing her head up. "Hermione," he crooned, leaning in close to her ear. "Hermione, you can fight and struggle as much as you please, but nothing's going to change. You're mine, you belong to me, and I am going to teach you where your place is. The more you fight, the more it's going to hurt, so I recommend you do the _smart_ thing and give me what I want."

He bit down on the curve of her ear, sank his teeth into the flesh until she shrieked and writhed against him, until the shackles on her wrists and the chains that held her to the wall were jangling madly as she struggled in her bonds. Draco growled in satisfaction, enjoying her shrieks. He let her fight for a minute, then tightened his hand on her throat until she gasped and went still, sensing that he would choke the breath from her. Draco released her throat and licked the pink curve of her ear, feeling the hot flesh and the indentations of his teeth. "Let me rephrase, Mudblood. What would you do for a bath right now? Get the filth and dirt off you?"

She sniffed and he felt her head move against his in a nod. "Anything, Master," she whispered. "Anything you ask of me."

Draco leaned back and looked at her eyes, at the red-rimmed, puffy lids, at the broken capillaries surrounding her irises, then shook his head. "You're a better actor than that, Mudblood. I didn't believe a word."

Her face twisted, and Draco laughed as she actually stamped one foot. "I don't know what you want me to say," she said. "I just gave you the answer you wanted and you didn't believe me." Draco only needed to raise a brow and raise the tip of his wand, and she flinched back, avoiding his eyes. "Master."

Draco contemplated her, tapping his wand against his cheek as he thought. "I want you." After a minute, he laughed, deep and raspy. "That's all. I want you, and whatever I want, I'll take. Looks like you'll just have to figure things out as we go along. Won't that be _fun_?"

Hermione shuddered as his voice dropped into a dark growl, and she dipped her head, her clean curls falling into her smudged face. "Yes. Master."  
 


	3. Gleam, Tight, Power, Dance

**Title**: A Negative Passion (5/50)  
**Prompt**: #54 Gleam  
**Word Count**: 130

A scream echoed through the prison, deep and groaning, and Draco's eyes snapped open. On the wall of his cell, beside his pallet, a beam of moonlight crossed a narrow crack in the stone. Draco stared at the gleam of silver, watching it until a cloud crossed over the moon and threw his cell into darkness again.

A second scream cut through the cold air, the only thing that seemed alive in that frozen hell. Draco shut his eyes and sighed, concentrating on his thoughts, on the fantasy he was building. He concentrated on the images he could create in his mind, and slowly the chill of the prison faded away. He took a slow breath, and in his fantasy, he reached out and took a handful of Hermione's hair.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (6/50)  
**Prompt**: #90 Tight  
**Word Count**: 160

He pushed her dark curls away from her face, smiling when she shuddered and tried to turn her head from his hand. Deliberately, he closed his fist and tightened his fingers around her hair, twisting the long strands around his hand, rolling it up until he had a grip at the back of her skull. He hauled her head back, his heart pounding at the soft cry she made. The sound of her pain had his blood heating.

"Don't turn away from me," he told her. He leaned down to whisper into her ear, his lips directly against the soft curve of her lobe. He flicked his tongue over it, tasting the salt on her skin, almost purring as he felt her shiver. She started to angle her head away from his lips and he tensed his fingers in her hair. With a quiet whimper, she stilled. Draco hummed in approval and nipped at the shell of her ear. "Good."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (7/50)  
**Prompt**: #24 Power  
**Word Count**: 180

When he released her hair, Hermione gave a great and shuddering exhale, her head drooping forward. Draco snapped his fingers, just once, and Hermione lifted her head, a flash of fear crossing her face as she obeyed the unspoken order. Draco growled deep in his throat, his lips drawing back from his teeth. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Hermione watched the movement, her eyes going wide.

"Think I'm going to use this on you?" he asked, tapping his lip. "Oh, it's a possibility, Mudblood. I might enjoy tasting you. Might enjoy running this all over you, exploring every bit of you. Showing you exactly where you belong. What do you think of that?"

For a moment, a spark of disgust appeared in her eyes, then she blinked and her expression went blank. Draco hid a smile at her useless efforts to disguise her reactions from him. He knew everything she would do.

She would break for him. She might not understand it yet, but she _would_ break for him. It was only a matter of time.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (8/50)  
**Prompt**: #40 Dance  
**Word Count**: 130

She met his eyes and her chin came up an inch. "I think," she said, and her voice trembled as she spoke. She coughed and cleared her throat, trying again, but her words were hoarse and rough. "I think that you aren't as _pure_ as you claim to be, if you want to get your tongue on a filthy Mudblood."

Draco tapped his wand against his cheek as he looked at her, then gave it a quick, sharp flick. Hermione howled, cringing in her chains as the shackles around her wrists tightened and dug into the raw flesh. Draco flicked his wand again and the chains danced, forcing her to sway and stagger in their iron grasp. When he lowered his wand, Hermione slumped, the defiance gone from her eyes.


	4. Nails, Master, Candle, Awakening, Light

**Title**: A Negative Passion (9/50)  
**Prompt**: #13 Nails  
**Word Count**: 130

Draco gripped her chin and forced her head up. Hermione made a token effort at pulling away from his grasp, but Draco clutched her tight. He dug his fingers into her jaw, his nails cutting into her skin. When he shoved her head back, rocking her in her chains, he smiled at the half moon shapes left behind in her flesh, small reddened welts in her skin. He admired his marks on her body and felt his heart racing. He'd leave more than those tiny bruises on her before he was done. Before he was finished with her, every part of her would carry his mark. He'd leave his claim on every inch of her body, take possession of her from skin to soul. She was going to be his. 

**Title**: A Negative Passion (10/50)  
**Prompt**: #20 Master  
**Word Count**: 180

Draco took a step back from her and lifted his wand. He laughed under his breath as Hermione flinched, hiding her face in the slope of her upraised arm. It pleased him that she was already learning to fear his movements, to anticipate pain. It would be easier to break her to his will if she understood what would come if she angered him.

"What is my name?" he asked in a low voice, watching her slowly lift her head to meet his eyes.

She scraped her teeth along her bottom lip. A piece of skin pulled free and she sucked it into her mouth, swiping her tongue across the tiny droplet of blood that formed on her lip. "Draco," she whispered.

Draco shook his head. He twitched his arm, the tip of his wand moving just an inch, and Hermione shuddered. She dropped her eyes, staring at the stone floor.

"What's my name?" Draco asked again. "Who am I?"

Hermione gulped. She quivered in her chains and Draco heard the soft gasp she made. "Master," she said. "My master."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (11/50)  
**Prompt**: #43 Candle  
**Word Count**: 120

Draco purred with satisfaction. "Very good, Mudblood." He flicked his wand, letting the tension of her chains fall slack. Hermione keened as her arms dropped and her knees buckled. She sagged in the chains, swaying on her feet. Draco ignored her faltering efforts to remain upright as he pointed his wand at the walls and lit the candles high up in iron cages. If she managed to stay on her feet, he would teach her to kneel. If she fell to her knees, he would teach her to grovel. No matter what she did, it would be a pleasure for him.

The golden glow of the candles filled the room and Draco turned to face his captive. "Let us continue."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (12/50)  
**Prompt**: #07 Awakening  
**Word Count**: 350

"Food!" shouted a heavy, rough voice, and Draco startled, shooting up from the pallet. Heart pounding, he struggled out of his fantasy, his dreams of forcing Hermione to his will. He stared at the iron bars set into the door, the window barely the size of a child's fist that let the guards of Azkaban examine the prisoners. An eye gleamed at him from the outside and Draco rolled off his pallet.

He scurried into the corner of his cell, as far from the door as he could move, and turned his back to the guard. Both hands on the walls, fingers spread wide. Head bowed. He had learned quickly how not to anger the guards.

He heard the clank of metal on stone and he counted to twenty in his head. Slow, with a pause two breaths long between each number. If he turned around too quickly, if he seemed too eager, the food would be gone. He didn't know how it arrived or disappeared, but he knew that it could be taken away for any reason. Even for no reason at all.

He turned and scrambled across the floor to the tray. Bread, dried meat, a cup of water. Practically a feast by his standards now. He grabbed up the solid hunk of bread first. Shoving it into his mouth and scraping away the molded pieces with his teeth to spit them into the corner, he eyed the pieces of dried meat. They would keep for a long while, wouldn't spoil even if kept in the open, and he swept them into his hand. He stuffed them under the corner of his pallet, tucking them away and out of sight. They would be a safequard against a hungry day to come, whenever the guards might decide to punish him.

He washed down the bread with slow sips of the lukewarm water. When the cup was empty, he stuck his tongue out and licked the inside of it, finding every drop. He dropped the cup onto the tray, shoved it up against the door, and returned to his pallet.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (13/50)  
**Prompt**: #53 Light  
**Word Count**: 140

He curled onto his pallet, staring at a thin beam of sunlight as it crawled across the wall. It crossed the crack in the stone beside his head, slid down toward his waist. Draco put his hands into the beam and watched dust swirl in the light, the tiny particles settling onto his skin and disappearing instantly into the grime around his knuckles and ground into the lines of his palms. He followed the light, imagining he could feel true warmth from the sun despite the chill of his cell. When the light faded, he lay on his pallet, closed his eyes, and built the room of his fantasy again. He returned to his dream world, where he was in control and Hermione would suffer for forcing him to live in this hell. He concentrated and sank into his thoughts.


	5. Flame, Lick, Tears, Bite, Angry

**Title**: A Negative Passion (14/50)  
**Prompt**: #31 Flame  
**Word Count**: 200

The candle flames burned brighter as he flicked his wand, burnishing her hair like copper. Draco paced in front of her, never looking away from her tear-streaked face. She watched him as he moved, her body trembling and setting the chains to jingling softly each time he turned and his wand swept past her. Draco smiled, scraping his teeth across his bottom lip. The sound of the chins was like bells to him, pure and joyful.

"I mentioned a bath, didn't I?" he said, lifting his wand to tap it against his cheek. She didn't respond and he pointed his wand at her, one eyebrow raised. "Didn't I?" he asked again in a tone of warning.

Hermione shivered, but nodded once. "You mentioned a bath." She swallowed hard, her chin rising just an inch. He saw the muscles in her cheek tighten as she ground her teeth together before she spoke. "Master."

He gave a silent laugh, amused by her continued attempts at defiance. If she thought he wouldn't punish her for her hesitance, for that deliberate pause before calling him by the title he deserved, she was wrong. She'd earned herself a good punishment for that little slip.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (15/50)  
**Prompt**: #94 Lick  
**Word Count**: 200

He stepped close and grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking her head back and exposing the line of her neck. He bent his head and brushed his lips across her throat. Flicking his tongue out, he licked her skin. She tasted of dirt and sweat, disgusting and filthy, and he knew that he would have to bathe her before he went too much further. He wanted her clean before he showed her what her true worth was. Her place was as low as mud, and she would learn it. By the time he was done with her, she would learn.

He hooked the tip of his wand into the ragged neckline of her roughspun dress and murmured a charm. With a sound that seemed to echo in the room, the front of her dress ripped down the center. Hermione gasped, instinctively taking a step back, and Draco grabbed the torn edges of the dress to haul her close again. He pulled her forward until the chains pulled her arms back to straining. "That was a mistake," he said, his lips curling in a dark smile. "You haven't learned to hold still, have you? Haven't learned how to behave. Filthy Mudblood."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (16/50)  
**Prompt**: #73 Tears  
**Word Count**: 200

A few quick flashes of his wand had the coarse fabric of her dress in shredded piles at her feet. He laughed as her arms jerked, as she tried to cover herself. "All mine," he said, stepping back to look her over. Narrow waist, flaring hips, curving thighs. A thick patch of brown curls covered her mound. Her breasts, high and conical, were tipped with nipples in the same shade of brown, and Draco smirked at the further proof that she was little better than dirt.

He could see the moment when she realized what his action truly meant, could see the fear that flashed across her face. Her breasts shook as she panted for breath and the chains chimed with her shivers. He waited until she halted her brief struggle with her own thoughts, until she subsided. Her eyes sparkled and glimmered as water filled them. Her tears slid down her cheeks and dripped off her jaw, spattering onto her chest. Draco touched his wand to her chin and smiled as she lifted her head. "You can learn," he said softly. "Very good. "And if you please me properly? You'll learn your place, and you'll learn to enjoy it."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (17/50)  
**Prompt**: #86 Bite  
**Word Count**: 200

He put his hand over her throat and pushed upward, tipping her head further back. Tears slid down her cheeks and onto his fingers, but she moved at his direction. She canted her head back until her throat was fully exposed, with her pulse beating wildly in the hollows on either side.

Draco cocked his head and watched that pulse, watched the rapid flutter of her heartbeat. There, her skin was translucent and he could see the faint shadows of a vein, thin and blue. He touched his wand to her throat and drew it down, admiring the way she shivered as he trailed it into the narrow notch between her collar bones. 

Her heart beat faster, pulse racing in her throat, and Draco watched it in fascination. He slid his wand lower, between her breasts and over her stomach to circle the small indentation of her navel. He could almost hear her blood rushing through her, and it called to him.

Stepping close, he bent and licked the skin over that alluring flutter. Deliberately, he opened his mouth wide and set his teeth against her neck. He bit down, sank in, and moaned into her throat as she shrieked.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (18/50)  
**Prompt**: #15 Angry  
**Word Count**: 200

When he pulled away, he could see the circle of his bite in her skin. Deep and red already, a perfect display of his teeth. Draco let out a quiet groan of pleasure at his mark on her body.

Hermione dropped her head forward and glared at him, her eyes full of fire even through her tears. "Do it," she said in a rough voice. Each word trembled but she spoke clearly. Her eyes stayed locked on his. "Do it. Get it over with. Finish this off. You don't want to play in the dirt."

Draco shook his head in amusement. "And here I was going to relax your chains, give you a bit of room to move around. If you'd behaved, if you'd obeyed me, I might even have cushioned them for you. But this little display of anger? Naughty, Hermione." He flicked his wand.

Hermione screamed as the chains shifted. They slithered across the ceiling and pulled her arms directly overhead, leaving her standing only on the balls of her feet. She swayed, fighting for purchase. Draco hummed with pleasure. "I don't know why you insist on making things harder," he said. "I will have what I want."


	6. Wicked, Never, Voice, Shadow, Midnight

**Title**: A Negative Passion (19/50)  
**Prompt**: #46 Wicked  
**Word Count**: 165

More tears dripped down her face to spatter on her bare breasts. Draco watched, his wand held loose, as her skin took on a glimmer and and her eyes shone in the candlelight. Tears of pain, fear, anger, frustration. It didn't matter to him why she was crying. He only cared that she cried. She cried for him, because of him, and he felt his cock throbbing at the power of it. It was a wicked pleasure, a dark, twisted joy, and he reveled in it. She belonged to him, and it was only a matter of time before she admitted that of her own volition. Before she surrendered entirely and gave him everything he wanted. She was going to be his, her body and her soul would belong to him completely, and there was nothing she could do to halt him. He ran one finger over the tops of her breasts to swipe up her tears, then licked the salty liquid from his fingers.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (20/50)  
**Prompt**: #36 Never  
**Word Count**: 145

"You're mine, Mudblood," he told her, smiling darkly as she trembled and set her chains to chiming. Draco walked behind her and dragged his wand down her spine. He let the tip of it linger just above the narrow valley between her buttocks. 

Hermione twisted, attempting to dislodge him. "No," she whispered. "Never. I'm not yours, Draco."

Draco shook his head in faint amusement. He stepped forward, wrapping his left arm around her waist. He jerked her back against him and pushed his wand between her thighs. Hermione shrieked as the slender wand rubbed over the folds of her cunt, Draco's hand shoved against her arse. He could feel the heat coming from her body and he shifted to grind his cock on her hip. "You're mine," he said firmly. "And it's going to go so much easier on you when you finally acknowledge that."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (21/50)  
**Prompt**: #93 Voice  
**Word Count**: 200

Hermione trembled in his grasp, and Draco lifted his hand to palm her breasts. Her nipples were flat against his skin. He didn't like that. Deliberately, he grabbed one and twisted it, pulling it tight. 

Hermione screamed and her head fell back to rest on his shoulder. "Stop." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "Draco, stop!" 

Draco twisted harder, tugging upward to make her chest follow his hand. He rubbed his wand against the folds of her cunt until it worked between them. Not into her, not yet, but with all the silent warning that he could. He bit the curve of her ear and growled softly. "What was that, Mudblood?" he asked, letting his voice sound like a purr.

"Draco." Hermione shrieked when he pinched hard on her nipple and she jerked back against him. "Master!" she said. Draco relaxed his grip on her nipple. She gave a soft whimper and exhaled sharply. "Master," she said again. "Master, please. Please, you're hurting me."

Draco released her nipple and stroked around the curve of her breast. "There you go," he said. "When you behave, I don't have to hurt you. You just have to do what I tell you, Mudblood."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (22/50)  
**Prompt**: #62 Shadow  
**Word Count**: 200

He grabbed her chin and twisted her head to force her to face him. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across her eyes, leaving them dark and hollow. For a moment, her expression resembled the skull burned into his arm, but there was too much fire in her eyes. She still had too much defiance in her, too much fight. There was something deep in her that was going to take a great deal of effort for him to break. Draco shivered with the thought. Breaking her to his will was going to be beautiful. When she finally surrendered to him, it would be pure glory.

He stroked his thumb across her lips and smiled. With a quick command, he released the tension of her chains. She dropped fully into his arms, pliant and loose against his chest. He saw the glimmer of relief in her face and he nodded. "When you behave yourself, when you obey me, I won't be forced to hurt you. I won't have to punish you. All you have to do is learn your place, Mudblood."

Hermione lifted her head to meet his eyes. Slowly, as if she was fighting herself, she shook her head. "No."

**Title**: A Negative Passion (23/50)  
**Prompt**: #66 Midnight  
**Word Count**: 155

Howls rang out, the sound shrieking up and down the corridor outside his cell. Draco shivered and swore under his breath, curling into a tighter ball on his pallet. The images of Hermione shattered and crumbled away from him. He covered his ears with both hands and tried to block out the howling. One of the other inmates, human or werewolf. He couldn't tell.

In Azkaban, it didn't matter. Everyone went insane eventually, went mad and shrieked for hours, dawn to midnight to noon all blending together, hands pounded against the stone walls until bones broke and flesh shredded. He knew, knew without a doubt that his fate would be the same. All he could do was push it away as long as possible. When he could concentrate on his fantasy, when he could focus on his wild thoughts, his imagined punishments for the woman responsible for trapping him in hell, he could feel sane.


	7. Ancient, Claws, Hunger, Restraints, Please

**Title**: A Negative Passion (24/50)  
**Prompt**: #26 Ancient  
**Word Count**: 130

The walls of his cell were made of stone as ancient as the sea that surrounded the prison. Draco feared the madness that came with those stone walls. He closed his eyes; he covered his ears. He did everything he could to block out the cell, the prison, and the incessant, anguished screams.

He squeezed his eyes tight until he could feel tears leaking from under his lids, and he forced himself to focus on the world he was building in his mind. There, the only screams would belong to Hermione, the only fear would come from her, and he would be in control. He would make her suffer for her part in trapping him in this hell. _He_ would have the power, and he could do anything he pleased.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (25/50)  
**Prompt**: #06 Claws  
**Word Count**: 145

He wanted to lock his hands in her hair, wanted to feel the curls wrap around his fingers. He would haul her head back and force her to meet his eyes, force her to see what he wanted to do to her, force her to see what she would surrender to him. She didn't know it yet, wasn't willing to accept it _yet_, but there in his world, in the universe he controlled, she was his. He would drag his hands through her hair and over her body, leave his touch on every inch of her.

Draco closed his eyes tight and concentrated, his fingers clawing into the thin fabric of his filthy uniform, the material crushed in his fists. He blocked out the chill of his cell, blocked out the wild screams surrounding him, and he sank deep into the power of his fantasy.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (26/50)  
**Prompt**: #44 Hunger  
**Word Count**: 220

Hermione stood in her chains and Draco watched her with avid hunger. The curves of her body were lush and he gave in to the temptation to run his fingers over the curls of her mound. She shuddered and tried to move away from him, the chains rattling, but he made a sharp gesture and they tightened to pull her up on the balls of her feet. The shackles around her wrists dug into her flesh and she screamed as her arms were stretched to their full extension over her head.

Draco stepped back and watched her twist in the chains, watched her struggle against the shackles that held her fast, trapped for his pleasure. He waited and at length she slumped, weeping quietly, the chains supporting her full weight from her wrists. Her head fell forward and she shook it. Her voice reached him with a low, cracking murmur. "No," she said. "No, no, no."

Draco tightened his grip on his wand, ready to show her yet again how futile her protests would be, but she took a deep and trembling breath. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "No," she said, tears tracking down her cheeks. Each word seemed dragged out of her from a dark and aching hollow inside her. "No more. Please.... Master."

Draco smiled.

**Title**: A Negative Passion (27/50)  
**Prompt**: #80 Restraints  
**Word Count**: 200

He flicked his fingers and the chains released. Hermione dropped to her knees with an echoing cry. She curled over on herself, sobbing loudly with her abused arms cradled to her stomach.

Draco lifted his wand and the shackles at her wrists fell away, the restraints slithering back to the wall. In the gold candlelight, he could see the purplish bruises on her wrists and the blood marking her skin. His cock twitched and he laid one hand on it. Rubbing gently, he purred at the sight of her. On her knees, acknowledging his power. This was where she belonged and she was finally learning her place.

He conjured a chair, so elaborately carved and thickly padded that it resembled a throne. He liked the imagery of it, a king examining one of his pathetic subjects. Draco sprawled into the chair, wand tapping against his knee, and looked at Hermione. "I'll heal those," he said, point at her wrists. "And I'll give you the bath I promised. You can have a great many things, Hermione. But you need to do something for me. I'm sure you can guess what it is." 

He leaned forward, smiling. "What do you say, Mudblood?"

**Title**: A Negative Passion (28/50)  
**Prompt**: #57 Please  
**Word Count**: 220

She lifted her head. Her eyes were as red as the wounds on her wrists and her cheeks gleamed with tears. She looked at her arms and slowly raised them. Palms up, fingers loose, she held her hands out to him. "Please," she said, voice weak and quavering. "Please, Draco. _Master_," she corrected before he could do more than twitched his wand.

She shifted on her knees, sitting up and spreading her legs. Draco lifted his brows, his gaze drawn to the shadows between her thighs. He intended to take her before he was done, to claim every inch of her as his own, whether or not he had to force her. If she submitted to him of her own will, gave him what he demanded, it would be so much sweeter. To have her at his mercy and acknowledging that was where she deserved to be. That would be so much better.

Hermione sat on her heels, her body exposed, her arms raised in supplication, and she ducked her head. "Please, Master," she whispered. "Please heal me. Please let me have the bath you promised. I'll do anything you ask."

Draco's cock throbbed and his heart raced. He tipped his head back against the chair and allowed himself a soft groan. "Yes," he purred. "You will. Everything I want."


	8. Innocence, Fear, Unforgiving, Lust

**Title:** A Negative Passion (29/50)  
**Prompt:** #28 Innocence  
**Word Count:** 400

She knelt in front of him, trembling and naked, and Draco smiled as he watched her. The reality of her situation was sinking in, finally. He could tell. Her protests were ending, her hopes were dying. The efforts to pretend it would all go away if she only wished hard enough, like an innocent child hiding from the imaginary monsters under the bed, had proven to be futile. She was accepting the truth. She was finally learning her place.

He sat back in his chair and spread his knees wide, fingers drumming on his thighs. Hermione glanced at him from under her lashes. Deliberately, Draco pressed his hand against his stiffening cock and laughed to himself when she made an attempt at hiding a shudder. "Don't even try to pretend that you don't know where this is heading," he said. "That was decided a long time ago. My decision. My choice."

He leaned forward, eyes narrowed, and grabbed a fistful of her hair to force her head up. "You had a choice once," he hissed. "You could have spoken up, could have done something to help me, but you turned away. It's _your_ fault that I ended up in hell, and now it's your fault that you're in your own. This is all because of the choices you made. Now, all your choices belong to me. _You_ belong to me. The only choice you get now is how much you'll suffer."

He pulled her forward by the hair until her shoulder hit his knee. Shoving her face against his thigh, he growled at her. "It's going to happen. The only thing you get to decide is how much I have to hurt you in the process. Make it easy on yourself and surrender like the whore you've always been. Less pain for you when you give me what I want. If you fight me? You'll scream for me before I take what I want regardless. I'll tear you to shreds. You won't believe the pain you'll endure before I'm done, if you make this difficult."

Draco released her hair and drew two fingers up the length of his cock, outlining it beneath his trousers. He looked down at her and raised a brow. "I suggest you do your best to satisfy me. Either way, you filthy little Mudblood? I'm going to enjoy this."

**Title:** A Negative Passion (30/50)  
**Prompt:** #17 Fear  
**Word Count:** 120

She looked up at him, her eyes shadowed and dark. Draco felt his cock throbbing as she watched him. She was breaking, but not broken, and his heart raced at the thought of it. Each time she shuddered, each time her lips formed the shape of the title he deserved, it brought her closer to her own destruction. Even with her defiance, she still held the fear of what he could do to her, and he knew that fear would be the one thing that pushed her over the edge. What he planned for her, she wouldn't enjoy, but she would enjoy far less what else he could do. For her own safety and survival, she was going to surrender.

**Title:** A Negative Passion (31/50)  
**Prompt:** #77 Unforgiving  
**Word Count:** 150

He smiled down at her and crooked his fingers in an implacable, unforgiving gesture. Hermione whimpered, a tear sliding down her cheek to soak into the material of his trousers. She hesitated, a heartbeat too long, and Draco growled. He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head back.

Hermione let out a strangled scream. A second later, her hands were scrabbling up his legs. She reached for the fastenings and clawed at them, fingers trembling. Draco released her hair as a reward for her obedience. Hermione gulped and shivered, but she opened his trousers without need for further command.

She curled her fingers into fists and relaxed them immediately. Reaching beneath the fabric, she touched him. The pad of one finger brushed the base of his cock. Draco growled again, this time with pleasure. "Don't make me tell you every step," he said, leaning back in the chair. "Do it, whore."

**Title:** A Negative Passion (32/50)  
**Prompt:** #45 Lust  
**Word Count:** 150

She bowed her head and swallowed hard, hard enough that he could hear her. With a deep, shaking breath, she wrapped her hand around his length and lifted his cock upright. Draco watched her from beneath his lids as she gave a slow stroke. Her movements were tentative and uncertain, though he wasn't sure if it was from her reluctance or from inexperience. He decided to give her a chance to learn how best to please him. If she had little experience with sex and lust, she'd learn soon enough. And she would learn quickly, he decided, because his patience wasn't infinite. Now that he had her, now that she was on her knees for him with her hand around his cock, the rest of his plans for her would soon be put into motion. Every part of her would belong to him. This was only the start.


End file.
